


Love Letter Straight from My Heart

by ava_jamison



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Catwoman (Comics), Catwoman - All Media Types
Genre: BatCat, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 19:11:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12941823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ava_jamison/pseuds/ava_jamison
Summary: Batman, in Catwoman's claws.





	Love Letter Straight from My Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Calliope_Soars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calliope_Soars/gifts).



Moonlight streams in the single, high window, pouring down to illuminate the figure below, spread-eagled, bound to the tangle of ancient copper pipes that crisscross the north wall. Her captive struggles in his bonds.

“Batman,” she says, her steps echoing on the tile as she approaches, languid and casual. “I see you’re coming to.”

Whip in one hand, Catwoman examines her handiwork, runs a finger over the bindings on his wrist, then up his arm to squeeze a bicep. “Mmm.” Her voice is a low purr. “Nice.”

He answers with a snarl. “You’ll never get away with this, Catwoman.”

“Oh, but I am.” 

Slowly, she unzips her suit a few more inches, baring her cleavage further—knowing his eyes are following the downward movement—then leans close to whisper in his ear. Her honey-drenched tone is a purr as her hand skates down his torso, gliding over the leather and Kevlar that covers hard pecs and taut obliques. “Getting away with it right now.” 

His muscles contract under her touch.

“The great Batman,” she says, “helpless.” Her hand slips lower, and he huffs out air against her cheek when she squeezes. Shakes his head as if to clear it, tenses his body against his bindings.

“I’ll be free in minutes.” 

She stands her ground and his back arches as he writhes against the ropes, pressing his body closer to hers, and she closes her eyes for a minute, just to feel the power. Lets her body brush his. Breathes in the smell—raw and masculine—leather and armor, sweat and sex. “Keep struggling, Big boy. It only makes it better.”

“Only a degenerate would want what you want, like this—”

“Mmm.” She tosses her head, laughs. “Now you’re really turning me on.” She smiles, letting a single finger slowly trace down from his chin, over his torso, all the way to his belt. “Let’s see if you’re a little corrupted, yourself.”

Batman struggles harder. Grits out his words. “Some things are out of my control, Catwoman.”

“Even yours? Surely you’ve done some… Tibetan trance or Mongolian self-torture to keep yourself… in check. Haven’t you?” She undoes the hasps, bypassing the booby traps. “Lucky I’m a safecracker, she whispers, her own voice growing hoarse as she pushes away his jock; takes him out. “It must kill you that you can’t control this one part of you. One. Traitorous. Part.” She purrs her approval as his cock springs free, hard and ready. Grabs his chin. Runs her thumb over his lower lip, parted as he snarls. 

“You said you’d reform.”

“Your point?” She grinds her pelvis to his. “Oh, wait. There it is.” 

He clenches his teeth, lips a thin line. “You could stop this, Catwoman.”

“Meow, Baby.” She pulls away to unfurl her whip, aiming for a pipe just above his shoulder, just to the side of his head. His face is impassive, stoic. The whip’s crack is sharp, echoing in the darkness, and he starts when she hits her target.

“Not stopping tonight, darling.” She traces the line of his cowl, thoughtful. There’s the slightest rasp of stubble on his cheek and she runs the back of her hand over it. “I could just… at any moment, unmask you, Batman. Know the real you. The man behind the mask.”

“You wouldn’t d—”

“You’re at my mercy, detective.” She loops her coiled rope around his neck, watches his head dip lower, almost imperceptible—if she wasn’t looking for it, hadn’t been working to get it. She reaches up. “Let’s see those baby blues, ” she says as she flicks back his lenses, not his cowl, not yet, but his lenses, revealing his eyes—wild and dangerous. She smiles, predatory. “Nothing you can do, Dark Knight. Nothing. I’m going to make you scream.” She yanks on the whip, pulling his head toward her, watches his shoulders drop a quarter-inch as he gives in. His face is still unreadable. But his breath hitches.

“That’s it, Batman. Give it up for me.” She bites along the edge of the cowl. “So strong and forceful—all that pent-up, manly energy. Going to let you unleash it, Batman. Make you.”

She presses her breasts against him, reaching down. “So big, Baby. So big and hard for me.”

He groans when she puts a rough hand on him, buries his face in the crook of her neck. 

She firms her grip, does it again, fingers slicking with each stroke. “How does it feel, Batman? A bad girl like me getting you… God you’re so big and hard, big boy. Leaking for it, aren't you?”

Through clenched teeth, he whimpers. It’s just barely audible. All for her.

“That’s it, tiger.” She tilts her head toward the window at his back, looking up into the clear sky, stars and moonlight—the completely empty sky. “I could keep you here even if—oh! The Batsignal, Batman!”

He flexes in her hand; bites his lip when she looks up to tease him. 

“Too bad I’m not letting you go. You’re for me tonight, Batman.” She brings her lips to his. “Mine,” she says against them. Feels his tongue invade her mouth, hot and urgent.

She lets him, for a minute. Then turns her head and breathes into the leather at his ear. “Always want things you shouldn’t. Not able to keep it all hidden—not quite. Need what you can’t have.” She works her body against him. “What you shouldn’t have.” She does it again, rocking her hips to his.

He groans, then catches himself. His voice is husky with desire. “You’re a criminal.”

“And you love it, big boy. Makes you all hard,” she shoves her tongue in his mouth. “And so hot. Still have to jerk off before you go out on patrol? 

He shudders, heart hammering against her breasts.

“Still think about me?” She brings her hand up to his face. “Lick it, Batman.”

His eyes narrow, and at first he looks like he won’t do it. But then his tongue darts out and laves her palm, slow and efficient.

“Good boy.”

His eyes are rolling back in his head now, fluttering closed as he gives himself over.

He laps at her palm, tongues between her index and middle finger. She nudges the two over his bottom lip. He sucks them in, into warmth and wetness, biting a little. 

“Very good boy.”

She thrusts her fingers lazily, watching his lips close around her fingers as he latches on, part as she pulls out. She wraps her hand around him. Feels his heavy, hot flesh in her hand.

And stops. 

“Bruce, what… is your comm-link lighting up?”

He opens his eyes. “What?”

She waves a hand to his right, just behind him. To the pile on the floor that consists of his utility belt, her goggles and a couple of other discarded accessories, all now lit by the greenish glow of a regularly blinking light.

Bruce clears his throat. “Well…”

“That’s new, right?” Her hands are on her hips. The wet hand slips a little and she wipes his spit off on her suit.

He’s still speaking a little slowly. “You don’t like it when—” 

“No, I don’t being an accidental syllable away from broadcast on the Batchannel. After that one time—”Selina sighs rather overdramatically and grabs the link out from under a Batarang. She holds the thing up for him, tucking it into his cowl at the temple. 

Batman clears his throat. “Open frequency.”

She hears the soft crackle of static, then a young male voice. Something about the Titans.

“Yes,” Bruce says, rolling his eyes. “Acknowledged. Over and out.”

He shrugs as she takes the link away. 

“Had to have a way for him to get in touch—for emergencies.” He frowns, exasperated. “This wasn’t.”

Her eyes crinkle at the corners. “You’re a good dad, Bruce.” Her hands are on her hips again and she’s grinning. “And you did it for me, didn’t you?”

“What?”

“Modified it.”

He shrugs again.

“So we could still do this and—” She stops talking but she can’t stop smiling so she takes a deep breath, stretches. Gets back into character.

She runs her hands up and down his bound arms. Across his chest. There’s a tear in the suit, just below the ribcage, left side. The skin is welted there. “Did I do that?” She leans down and tongues it. His abs tremble and his breath catches.

She buries her head against his neck and slides her hands down his back, or as much of it as she can get to with him tied up like this, slipping up to his shoulder blades, then down, slowly, over the curve of his back, landing squarely on his ass, grabbing as much hard muscle as she can, squeezing it with a growl. 

His hard length digs into her stomach and his breath is a huff of air on her collarbone, an exhale with the tiniest of grunts. 

She steps back and takes him in, head to toe. “You’re gorgeous, big boy. All tied up and waiting for me.” She lets her eyes track back up again, pausing appreciatively on his cock, then up higher and… Damn. Behind him in the window is the… Damn!

She slumps against him, pressing a soft kiss to his throat, through the cowl. “Bruce?”

He blinks, his head lolling forward. His voice is muffled against her shoulder. “Huh?”

“The um…” She clears her throat. “The signal.”

“Ahem.” He clears his own throat. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” She sighs, reaching toward the pile on the floor and his utility belt. “Knife’ll be quicker…”

But by the time she’s turned, blade in hand, he has one arm already free. She helps him with the other, fumbling, even as he does it smoothly, irritated. “You, uh… going out like that, big boy?”

He finishes closing things, hooks his utility belt. Looks up at her with a look that’s playful, almost a leer. Reaches for her. “Not like you have room to talk, Catwoman.” He pulls her to him, smashing her leather-clad breasts between them. Lets his hands slide down her to palm her ass.

“Bruce!” She jumps when he gooses her. 

He swallows her yelp with a searing kiss. “You’re marinating in your own… juices, criminal.”

“Oh, listen to the Boy Scout talk dirty.”

“You know I can talk _significantly_ dirtier than that.”

“Mmm. Promises, promises.” She smiles into his throat. “Degenerate.”

“I’ll be back by dawn. Show you how degenerate.” He kisses her temple. Whispers in her ear. “This isn’t over, Catwoman.” 

He lifts himself onto the ledge. Opens the window.

She sighs, tossing her head back with a snarl. Growls out the next words: “Go on, Batman. Shoot your Batarang. Shoot it hard for me.” 

His own smile is small but real as he flips down his lenses. “For you? Anything.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this ages and ages ago, changed a few things. Hopefully it works. Not sure about one choice in particular! Again, I'm swearing off this couple, just found this, however. It never made it to AO3.
> 
> Enjoy (hopefully). This is dedicated to Calliope_Soars. Thanks for all the love you've sent my way, via comments. I appreciate it!


End file.
